


It Changes and It Grows

by writingonpostcards



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Communication, Insecurity, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Polyamory, Slice of Life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-03
Updated: 2018-12-03
Packaged: 2019-09-05 21:23:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16818712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingonpostcards/pseuds/writingonpostcards
Summary: "Who said that we can only love one person at a time?” Bitty whispers it like a secret.Who said, who said, who said.No-one did except Kent himself.Kent starts developing feelings for Swoops but is worried about them, even though when he tells Bitty, all he gets is encouragement.





	It Changes and It Grows

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ronanlynchisneversleepingagain](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ronanlynchisneversleepingagain/gifts).



> This prompt was really interesting thematically and I enjoyed working on it because of that. Hopefully you find what you're looking for in this work.

_Love is always on the go_

_It never stays in one place_

_Day by day it changes and it grows_

_But you'll always recognize its face_

_\- Fallen, Ron Sexsmith  
_

_____

Kissing Bitty is like waking up and falling asleep. The hope of morning and the contentment of returning to your bed at night. It’s not normally paired with creeping guilt.

“Wait, wait. Stop. Bits. We’ve got to stop.”

Bitty backs away immediately, and the space between them becomes a cavern as Kent draws his limbs away from Bitty, curling them back against his own body.

“What’s going on?” Bitty asks, the gentleness like needles to Kent right now.

“I’m not thinking about you,” Kent confesses.

“Oh.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

Bitty’s hands reach out and Kent wants them at the same time he doesn’t. Why should he receive this tenderness from Bitty when he has traitorous thoughts running through his head.

He shifts away further.

“It’s alright,” Bitty tells him. “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

Kent laughs harshly. “Yes. I do.”

“Because you weren’t thinking about me when we were kissing?” Bitty guesses.

“Because I was thinking about Swoops.” Kent looks at Bitty as he says it, because he needs to see Bitty _get it._ Get how bad he’s been, thinking about Swoops when Bitty isn’t there, thinking about him when he is.

Kent doesn’t see it hit in Bitty like he’s waiting for.

Bitty reaches out again for Kent and he’s caught so off-guard that he lets it happen. More so, his body reacts before his brain can, and he relaxes towards Bitty, fingers reaching eagerly for Bitty’s.

Bitty nods. “Thank you for telling me.”

Kent shakes his head while his hand holds tight still to Bitty’s.

“You shouldn’t be thanking me,” Kent says huskily.

“I can thank you for whatever I like,” Bitty says with a smile at odds with the defiance of his tone. “You telling me what you just did? That was brave. I love that you did it. Thank you.”

“How come you’re not mad?”

“Because I know you, I love you, and I could see it coming.”

Kent freezes. “See what?”

Bitty reaching a hand up to cup Kent’s cheek. “You falling in love with Jeff.”

Kent freezes beneath Bitty’s palm. “I’m not—”

He can’t even finish the sentence.

Bitty's thumb brushes his skin gently. There’s love and understanding in his eyes.

“But I—" Kent swallows roughly. “I don’t want to be. I love _you_.”

Bitty smiles softly and kisses Kent’s nose. “I know. I know you do, honey. But who said that we can only love one person at a time?” Bitty whispers it like a secret.

 _Who said, who said, who said_. No-one did except Kent himself.

_____

Bitty is away on a shoot and Kent is miserable. The past two months saw their schedules misaligned; Kent busy with playoffs and Bitty in Europe producing a music video with a budget that puts Kent’s salary to shame. He misses waking up next to his boyfriend, the smell of his soap on the pillow next to him, even the pile of socks at the foot of their bed that Bitty always takes too long to put away.

On top of all that, Kent’s body is trying to kill him. It held out through the finals and follow-up press and now that he’s finally got the time to himself a nasty cold has grabbed him by the stomach and throat.

 _I’m being eaten from the inside_ , Kent texts Swoops desperately in a moment of vulnerability, not wanting to make Bitty worry, but needing to vent to someone.

His deception is for naught because only an hour after turning up at his front door and proceeding to fuss over him and the apartment, Swoops is grabbing Kent’s laptop from his weak grip.

“I’m calling Eric,” Swoops declares, too dramatically for Kent’s pounding headache. “He’ll know how to fix this.”

“No, no,” Kent groans, coughing as his body protests his trying to sit up. “I’m fine. It’s not that bad."

Swoops presses his hand to Kent’s chest. “Stay down. You’re pale as ice. I’m calling him.”

Swoops absentmindedly adjusts the damp facecloth he’d placed on Kent’s forehead with one hand. Kent shudders under his touch. The cool cloth feels good. Swoops’ fingers accidentally brush across his cheek and jaw as he draws his hand away. That’s good too.

“It’ll be fine to call him now, right? I can’t remember what country he’s in.”

“Greece. But I was trying to avoid telling him. Please Swoops? He can’t do anything. He’ll just get worried.”

“That’s your sick brain talking. He’s your boyfriend. He’s allowed to get worried. Encouraged, even.”

“Could we not just _call-call_ then,” Kent pleads. “I look gross. Like ice, you said.”

“You look fine. You always do.” Kent shudders again. “Besides, Eric’s seen you sick before.”

“But everything looks worse on camera.”

“Holy shit, you’re whiney when you’re sick.” Swoops spins around to sit cross legged on the base of the large bed, facing Kent so the screen points away from him. “Okay?”

Kent nods. “Better.”

Kent absolutely refuses to let Swoops turn the laptop around so Bitty can see him, even though he can hear Bitty asking very politely. Neither of them push it far, and Kent’s grateful that his sickness has brought him that at least.

Jeff disappears from the bedroom with laptop in tow and Kent must fall asleep because it feels like only ten minutes later he returns with a steaming bowl of soup. Chicken noodle. Kent can smell it from the bed. Bitty must have talked Swoops through it because it tastes just right. He closes his eyes as he swallows. It’s like Bitty’s home. It’s not so bad when he opens his eyes and Swoops is there. That’s nice too. Different. Swoops doesn’t plump up the pillows behind him like Bitty would have. He doesn’t put on a generic ‘calm’ playlist from Spotify. Swoops picks out the soup spoon with the wooden handle that feels nice in Kent’s hands. He brings in a bottle of water, and once Kent’s eating the soup, darts out of the bedroom for a moment to bring Kit in and dump him on Kent’s feet.

Kent eats Bitty’s soup and sits quietly beside Swoops in bed, who uses Kent’s laptop to shop for a birthday present for his mother and won't leave his side even though Kent says he should stay away. He'll quietly admit to himself later he didn't push very hard.

He feels cared for and loved even without Bitty beside him and he does miss Bitty but he has soup and Swoops and Kit, and it’s almost the same.

Swoops insists on staying the night to watch over Kent, and threatens to call Bitty again when Kent refuses. Giving in is, once more, easy and rewarding. Though he sleeps across the hall in the guest room, Kent calms knowing he’s not alone.

He calls Bitty before he falls asleep and reassures him Swoops it taking good care of him, that he feels better already.

“I'm sorry if I made it weird. Asking Swoops over.”

“Why would it be weird?”

“Because you know how I feel about him. And you're not here and he's staying the night.”

“Kent. It's fine. I trust you and I trust Jeff as well.”

“Thanks, Bits”

Bitty surprises Kent then, continuing on to confess, “Besides, I’m starting to—I can see why you love him. I'd much prefer someone you love beside you while you're sick than no-one at all.”

_____

It’s off-season when Kent breaks his ankle, which is both extremely lucky and extremely unfortunate. He seems to be developing a habit of sickness and injury when all he really wants is to take Bitty on an indulgent holiday. As it is, he and Bitty had to cancel their trip to the snow (“I’d like to see real snow one day” Bitty had said. Kent booked tickets the next night.). Bitty pushes back a shoot the following week to stay at home with Kent. He pays a massive rescheduling fee and Kent yells at him for it because he’s not worth it. Bitty has nothing to say to that and for a half a day they walk around on eggshells, Bitty fuming and Kent wallowing. Then Swoops comes over and everything flips right way up again.

He becomes a regular fixture in their guest room as Kent recovers. Kent’s pain is a strange thing to bond over, and Kent wouldn’t put the three of them through it again for the sake of strengthening their relationship, but it’s what happens.

Bitty and Swoops have always been friendly because that’s Bitty nature and because Swoops never says no to a good conversation. Kent spaces out watching them talk back and forth sometimes, and a little vine of warmth unfurls in his chest to make up for the steady ache provided by his ankle.

The warmth comes from other moments too. Swoops’ and Bitty’s bickering over tea brands, their combined insistence that they know the better way to tape Kent’s cast so he can shower, their attempts at singing in harmony to the music channel and how they always end up on the same part. It’s like something inside Kent has been waiting for the bridge to turn stable between Swoops and Bitty and as he watches it happen, he feels it settle like a blanket over his shoulders after a long day.

At night, when Bitty lies beside him and leaves a careful foot between them so he doesn’t jostle Kent’s ankle, when Bitty kisses him on the shoulder and tells him he loves him, when Swoops comes in to say goodnight and leave a glass of water by the bed for him, Kent tries not to think about the future. Only a week and this is Kent’s new normal, and one he relishes. He knows it’s temporary. Knows it every morning when he wakes up and his ankle doesn’t pain him so much.

He should be waiting impatiently for the day when it doesn’t hurt at all. When he can be back on the ice and to training and to not having to keep himself quiet when Bitty strokes him off early in the morning when he can’t get back to sleep. Instead, he looks ahead and his mouth turns down and then pulls further when other abnormal and unpredictable feelings tangle themselves up as he thinks.

Week three and Swoops is still there. Kent’s cast is off and his ankle is supporting his weight but as it improves his mood does not. He’s dreading what he’s come to see as going a step back. He’s never felt this close to Swoops before, and when he moves out, Kent’s worried it’s going to go away. Bitty will have to return to work. Kent will be alone, with only Kit.

Woken from a bad dream, he turns his head and finds the bed empty. More than that, Bitty’s side is cold. He hasn’t been beside Kent for a while, though they fell asleep together like normal, and Bitty’s fingers had been wrapped around his wrist. Their ensuite is empty, the hallway is dark. Kent presses his hands against the wall and closes his eyes. The apartment is big, but he should be able to—

There. Noises from the kitchen. He moves quietly toward it and soon the voices become audible.

“No, no, no,” Kent hears Bitty whisper. “You’re doing it wrong. You need to be gentler. Here, like this.”

Kent peeks around the corner into the kitchen. Only the stovetop light is on. Like a spotlight, it illuminates the way Bitty’s hands are wrapped around Swoops’. There’s no sounds as Bitty guides Swoops’ fingers around the edge of a pie, crimping the pastry between his fingertips. No sound as a little shard of ice pierces Kent’s lungs.

Back in the bedroom, he can’t shake the image of Bitty and Swoops pressed together in the kitchen, and when he does tumble sharply into sleep, a new nightmare plays for him, where Kent is broken and Swoops is right there and Bitty doesn’t hesitate to choose between them. Kent wanted them close but he's certain, near 100%, that he didn't mean like that.

“You didn’t sleep well last night,” Bitty tells him when Kent wakes from his fitful sleep the next morning.

Kent shrugs and tosses his legs over the bed, forgetting about his ankle until his foot hits the ground and pain shoots to the base of his spine.

“Oh, honey.” Bitty says immediately, and it grates on Kent’s frayed nerves.

Bitty’s sleep-warm hand presses down on Kent’s shoulder and he pulls away from it without thought. There’s a hiss as Bitty sucks in air. He thinks he should feel bad for that but it’s hard to conjure that up when there’s already pain and frustration and several other emotions coursing through his tired brain.

Why be so angry. Bitty and Swoops were only baking. Hardly anything to worry about. The excuses work as well as they did last night. Kent’s always struggled to believe the things he tells himself in moments like these, no matter how desperately he wants to.

“Kent?” Bitty tries again. “You know you can talk to me about anything. Whatever it is that’s got you sleeping so frightfully last night.”

Bitty doesn’t try to touch him again. Part of Kent is thankful. Other parts are sad, or righteous. Some of him just wants Bitty’s soft lips back on his shoulder.

“We bake together.” Kent says.

There’s a beat.

“Of course we do, honey.”

“No. _We_ bake together.” Kent turns to look at Bitty. Kent’s heart still finds the time to ping with fondness. Bitty is so attractive. He’s so lovely and warm and kind. The talking to doesn’t help. Kent still feels restless with betrayal.

“I saw you last night. With Swoops. Baking.”

Bitty blinks. “You weren't meant to see that.”

Kent's heart takes up residence in his throat.

“ _We_ bake together,” Kent says lowly, stomach clenching. “It’s _our_ thing.”

“Last night wasn't like—It still is our thing, Kent.”

Bitty's smile is mocking in Kent's eyes and it hurts.

“So why were you doing it with Swoops if it's our thing?” Kent's voice hardens.

“You can’t have a monopoly on baking with me,” Bitty leapfrogs over the question. “That's not how it works. He asked me to and I said yes.”

“Why did you—I don’t get it. You said it was ours. Why wasn't I meant to see?” Kent demands.

“Because Swoops wanted it to be a surprise.”

“A... surprise?” The word doesn't fit with Kent's assumption, nor the scene from his dream.

“It was Swoops’ idea. We’ve both seen how hard this is for you, being off your feet for so long. This past week in particular. Swoops says… Well, he…”

“What.” Kent asks, not nicely. He’s not yet let go of the pesky emotions warning him against forgiving them both for last night.

“He says it’s like you’re going backwards. Like how you were when he first knew you. Before you…well, before you met me.”

Kent feels like he’s folding in on himself.

“He’s worried and he wanted to do something to make you happy. That’s all.”

He’s folded so small he’ll be creased when he figures out how to unfold to normal. How could he have assumed that Bitty would—That he and Swoops.

Kent tries to slam the door to those thoughts shut. “Promise?”

“I promise. He admitted he can’t bake—”

“He can’t.”

“—and asked me to help. Of course I was going to say yes, Kent. I want you happy too.”

He’s not ready to apologise yet, thought he recognises that he should. He'll wait until the door isn't bulging, threatening to crack out its frame.

“You know I don’t like surprises,” Kent says

Bitty laughs softly. It’s far later in the day for his first laugh than normal. That’s on Kent. Another thing to apologise for. He’ll have to write them all down.

“No, that would be me who doesn’t like them,” Bitty tries to tease. “I always cry.”

Maybe that’s why Kent feels like crying now—he’s picked the habit up from Bitty.

“Right.”

Bitty reaches for Kent and it’s easier now to let himself fall into the arms that reach for him. Kent sighs out, then fills his lungs full as he can and does it again.

“Now. What’s this really about?” Bitty asks in a whisper. “I know you know I can’t read your mind.”

“Your sentence is confusing,” Kent deflects.

Bitty keeps his arms around Kent despite it. “You know you need to use your words instead of assuming we’re on the same page.”

“Fine.”

With Bitty’s arms still around him, it’s a lot easier to let the words come out. “Can I—I want to ask—”

“Go ahead. I’m never going to judge, remember?”

Kent breathes out. “Do you like him?”

“Yes,” Bitty says immediately. “He’s a good friend. To you and to me.”

“No. Not like that. I mean—” Kent pulls back. For this, he has to see Bitty.

“Do you like him like I like him?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Last night I walked past the kitchen and saw you two with the pie and you were…touching,” Kent pushes the word out. “And it was so quiet and I could hear you breathing. I felt… There was something about how you were.”

“I’m—”

Kent shakes his head. He needs to finish this. Get it off his chest. “I felt like I was watching something…something…something intimate. I’d just had this dream and I wasn’t in a good mental place and when I saw that…It was like I was an intruder in my own home.”

“Thanks for telling me.” Bitty hugs Kent tighter. “I feel like I need to say firstly that there's definitely room for intimacy between friends. Not everyone’s going to act on that in the same way, but physical proximity is one aspect. Then I guess…” Bitty sighs out and pulls back from Kent so he can look at him as he says, “I want to apologise. That’s a horrible way to feel, especially in our home and especially because it involved me. As for your actual question…” Bitty bites his lip and looks to the side. His fingers trail down Kent's arms as he thinks.

“I really don’t know,” Bitty whispers eventually.

“How can you not know?” It's almost hypocritical to ask seeing as Kent didn't fully understand his own feelings until Bitty confirmed it for him.

“Well, I guess, since you we talked about the way you feel about Jeff, I started trying to look at him through your eyes.”

“And…”

Bitty shakes his head at Kent. “I’m not sure yet. Something changed though. I know that. I don’t think about Jeff the way I do my other friends. But at the same time, it’s different to how I feel about you.”

“Okay.”

Bitty lifts Kent's hand and kisses his palm. “I can’t offer much more than to promise I’ll let you know when I figure it out.”

“That’s enough.”

Bitty kisses Kent softly. It's a relief Kent didn't expect to find it feels like it always does.

“Thank you, Kent. I really appreciate that.”

“And at least I know now I wasn’t imagining it. The way you two fit together.”

Kent initiates the kiss this time. “I love you,” Kent tells Bitty, lips still pressed together.

“I love you too.” Bitty repeats. Kent can feel Bitty smile through the kiss.

“Now, there’s a pie out there with your name on it and a very enthusiastic Swoops waiting to surprise you.”

“What kind of pie?”

“Nah-uh. I’ve got to keep at least part of it a surprise. Don’t worry though. I know you and I know you’ll love it.”

_____

It’s the way Swoops puts his hands in his hoodie pockets that alerts Kent.

He waits until after practise, until the rest of the team clears out for the day and management locks the doors. In the meantime, he tries to shoot as many smiles to Swoops as he can without going over the line.

The car park is empty except for their two spots, cars parked beside each other like normal. Kent’s always liked the way the green and black go together.

“See you tomorrow?” Swoops asks as he throws his bag into the backseat.

Kent sends another smile his way. “You know it.”

He almost lets it go then, but Swoops’ hands find their way into his hoodie pocket again. Kent watches them meet in the middle and twist themselves together.

“Hey.” He steps up to Swoops and places his palm against the driver-side door to Swoops’ car

Swoops looks at him.

“Something on your mind?” Kent prompts. “You seem…”

Swoops shakes his head. “I’m good.”

“Swoops. Come on.” Kent can't help but needle now he's made the decision to ask. “I know your tells. You've been distracted all day.”

Swoops averts his gaze. “I’m fine. Really, man.”

“You know you always bite your lip when you lie, right?”

Swoops sighs, shoulders dropping. “Yeah. Yeah, okay. You’re right. I was caught in my head a bit today.” Swoops leaves it at that but his hands still drag his hoodie down hard by the pocket.

“Alright.” Kent lifts his hand off the car door and leans back against it instead. “I’m listening.”

“It’s…personal.” Swoops hedges.

“Okay,” Kent encourages, trying to channel all the things Bitty does in moments like this. The eye contact and the open body language. Swoops is the antithesis to all that, hands still folded in his pockets and line of sight fixed away from Kent.

“Look. We’re best friends, yes? I’m here for you.”

Swoops remains silent and Kent has a strange insight into how Bitty must feel talking to him in his bad moments.

“I’m not gonna judge.”

Swoops laughs once harshly. “You don't know that.”

“I promise.”

Their eye contact holds and Kent is determined.

Swoops breaks first. “Fine. But it’s not—It involves—” Swoops pulls his hands from his pockets finally but reaches immediately for the door handle behind Kent's back. Kent moves out of the way, letting Swoops yank the door open

“Nevermind. I’m working through it. I’ll be fine. I'll have my head in the game tomorrow.” He rushes through the sentences.

“That's not what I'm worried about. Hey.” Kent moves away from the door and grabs firm to Swoops’ shoulder. “I'm trying to talk to my friend _as a friend_ , not a captain.”

“Okay. Great. Cool.” It's still rushed, as much of a tell as his hands on his pockets earlier.

Swoops gets into the driver's seat but Kent holds on firm to the door frame. “From personal experience, you'll feel better if you share with someone. Honest to god.”

Swoops screws his eyes shut. “Why are you pushing so hard on this?”

“Because I lo—I like you and I don't like seeing you like this. I want to help. Please.”

“You can't help, Kent.”

“I can try. Please? Let me.”

“Not with this.”

“I'm sure it's not as—”

Swoops slams his hands into the steering wheel. The horn echoes through the empty parking lot and Kent drops his hands from the door shocked by it and by the words Swoops yells when he does it again.

“I like Bitty, okay? I like _your boyfriend_.”

Swoops folds himself over the steering wheel, arms crossed on top, fingers gripping his elbows tight.

The sound of the horn has stopped ringing in Kent's brain, yet it still feels like something vibrates inside him.

“You... like Bitty?”

Swoops sighs and lifts his head off his folded arms.

“Yeah. How can I not, you know? He’s—Well. You actually do know. Which is the problem.”

“Yeah,” Kent agrees, trying to work out if what's vibrating is his hand, heart, chest, stomach.

“I'm sorry. I know that's, like, frowned upon. But I’m getting over it. I’m going to. I swear Kent.”

Swoops, still in the car, looks at Kent with desperation clear in his features.

“We’re best friends, like you said, and I wanna keep it that way. So. Yes. I’m going to do it. Get over him. Soon.”

Kent nods. He thinks he's worked out what it is now that’s causing such a fuss within him. It's a memory.

_Bitty says his name. Not in any of the normal ways, but in that quiet way that means there's something he's been thinking about and he's finally ready to tell Kent what it is._

_Kent shuts his book and puts it on the bedside table. He reaches for Bitty's hand to hold it firmly, show his support._

_“I made a promise to you a while back,” Bitty begins as he curls his fingers around Kent's. “That I'd let you know when I figure out how I feel about Jeff.”_

_Kent freezes, body locking up with the unexpected words._

_He swallows hard to get his throat moving. “And?”_

_“I like him. In a similar way to how I like you.”_

_Kent's skin buzzes, distracting him with possibilities. “Thank you for telling me,” he remembers to say._

_Bitty nods, smiling gratefully. He lifts their still twined hands to press his lips to them, then asks, “What next?”_

“Kent?” Kent returns to the present as Swoops steps out of the car and reaches for him before self-censoring. He pulls his hand away. Kent feels the absence of it like it really was touching him for a moment.

“Oh god. Man, please say something. I think I’m gonna hyperventilate.”

Kent looks to Swoops. “Sorry. I’m just… processing.”

Swoops sighs out shakily, nodding as he speaks. “Oh. Okay. Yeah, makes sense. I just dumped so much on—”

“Can I ask you something?” There's one puzzle piece Kent needs to search for before his heart races away from his head. Already it's being tossed toward the territory of hope, an incredible warmth in his system, but he can't deal with the crash if his heart has jumped two steps ahead. So he's asking for another confession.

“Yeah. Of course.” Swoops is so relieved he steps in to Kent, this time landing his hand on Kent's shoulder and leaving it there.

“Is it just Bitty?” Kent asks softly.

“Is what just Bitty?”

“I guess I’m asking…do you just like Bitty, or do you feel the same about…about me too.”

Swoops’ hand drops from his shoulder but Kent grabs it on the way down and holds it tight. Swoops doesn't resist.

“Kent. I…”

“Just a yes or no.”

Kent can feel Swoops’ fingers shaking.

“Yes.” Swoops says it with guilt. “Is that—Sorry I didn’t say it before.”

“It's fine. I get it.”

Swoops doesn't appear to hear Kent. “But it’s like I said, I’m planning on moving on. From both of you. And Bitty isn’t here. It felt safer to say all my feelings were just for him. But. I like you that way too, Kent.”

Kent wraps his arms around Swoops.

“Wo.” Swoops tenses under Kent's arms. “What’s happening. Are you okay?”

“More than okay.” Kent tightens his grip and Swoops tentatively rests his hands on Kent's sides.

“Okay.”

Kent cuts the hug much shorter than he wants, but he feels like he's stepped off a roller coaster—full of adrenaline. He barely thinks before calling Bitty.

From there, it's an easy decision to ask Swoops home for dinner and that night, after a very long discussion, Kent goes to bed with two boyfriends.

_____

Jeff picks them up from the apartment. Kent opens the door while Bitty fixes his hair in the bathroom. It's a different Jeff behind the door than was there last week. This one is nervous. This one is holding—

“Two bouquets?”

Swoops readjusts his grip on them.

“I know. It's ridiculous. I got one and then I thought, like, what if that's rude. Because there's two of you. What if I accidentally start an argument or something.”

Kent doesn't laugh, but he has to bite his lip to keep it in.

“That's thoughtful.”

“So it's not ridiculous?”

This time Kent does laugh. “Oh no. It's still ridiculous. But I like it.”

Swoops sighs in relief but he still makes Kent wait for Bitty to join him so he can give them their flowers at exactly the same moment.

Dinner is a mix of the normal and the abnormal. Swoops’ worry with the flowers has Kent overthinking things. More than usual. How do they sit three people at a table and not have one feel left out? If he grabs Bitty's hand does he do the same for Swoops?

Kent's never dated this way before, going from friends first to more. He likes it, not having to worry about first impressions and keeping the dark parts of yourself hidden away until later. Bitty and Kent already know the answers to the usual first date questions. It makes conversation interesting. Plus Kent doesn't have to angst over forcing himself to eat the broccoli on the side of his plate because Swoops already knows he doesn't like it. He trades it for Swoops’ sweet potato and it's like skipping straight to the established patterns of having been in a long-term relationship. The fun stuff happens when someone at the table—invariably Swoops or Kent—remembers it's a date and they trade off who's the most tongue tied and nervous at any given been moment. Bitty remains collected throughout.

As much as there's a comfort to it, he feels a push to catch Swoops up on two years of shared history. Bitty and Swoops obviously notice because when he comes back to the table after going to the bathroom they bring it up with him.

“I know you guys have a whole history. I've been kinda following it from the start, if you remember.”

“Yeah, I remember,” Kent tells Swoops. “You're the one who encouraged me to ask him out in first place.”

Bitty turns to Swoops. “Really? Kent never told me.” Swoops nods.

“Wow. It’s like you've been entwined with us from the start.”

“Just different now. But that's fine.” Swoops turns his attention back to Kent with the declaration. “I know that.”

A pressure dissipates from Kent then and he lets himself be without worrying.

They should be heading home straight after dinner. Bitty has an early shoot tomorrow and has to be up for the sunrise. Their next free time was in a week and none of them had the patience for it. After finding out about Swoops’ feelings, it was like going back to the honeymoon state of the relationship, even before anything happened with the three of them, Kent felt closer to Bitty. A new excitement ran through even the mediocre parts of their everyday.

Bitty lets Kent and Swoops bicker over the bill before revealing he dropped his card with the waiter at the beginning of the night. Kent should have remembered that move from his first date with Bitty.

Kent's heard people talk about nights like this, not wanting it to end. The others must feel the same because no-one says no when Bitty suggests the walk. Swoops brings up Bitty's shoot only once then lets it go after being reassured by Bitty he'll be fine. The streets around the restaurant are plain and the closest park is smaller than their apartment. It's magical anyway. Kent hears symphonies in the quiet of the night.

Kent feels nervous reaching for Swoops’ hand as they walk. They're not strangers to physical proximity but the feel of two palms pressed together with intimate intent is a far cry from a two second hug during a celly. Swoops squeezes Kent's hand as soon as they're clasped together. Kent doubts even the dark of the night could hide his blush.

Swoops walks them all the way inside their building and to the front door, though all of them know they won't move past that threshold tonight.

“Well.” There's no movement, though the door stands open behind them.

It's Bitty who eventually calls it.

“I really should get some sleep.”

“I had a nice time tonight,” Swoops says. It's a textbook sentence for the situation but the way he says it expands it with meaning.

“Me too, Jeff.”

“Yeah.”

Bitty leaves a gentle kiss on Swoops cheek then bids them goodnight and heads into the apartment.

Kent watches Swoops press his fingers to his cheek.

“Are things going to change now?” Swoops asks of Kent.

Kent shrugs. “Yes. No. Only the parts we want.”

“Fair.” Swoops nods. “I think I'm… really looking forward to it.”

Kent smiles at Swoops, his best friend, and knows that's one thing that won't be changing.

Kent hugs Swoops goodbye. Outside of a celly, it feels just as intimate as holding hands.

_____

It’s a not a big thing, it’s barely even a thing. These are the things Kent tells himself, pushing every ounce of belief he can spare into them. It’s not enough. He plays like shit. For him, at least, which means he’s still better than enough of the opposition to not get pulled off his line, but not enough he doesn’t deserve the berating he gets from the coaches.

Swoops tries to get an arm around him after the game and Kent skates away, hurt and anger propelling his feet. Thankfully, his mood doesn’t seem out of place—everyone is suffering their loss. He gives a short pep-talk to the guys, not catching Swoops’ eyes once, and skips the shower in favour of getting home as soon as he can.

The whole drive home he goes through a frustrating loop of emotions. Anger, guilt at the anger, disappointment at himself for his reaction, embarrassed, slighted, back to angry again. It doesn’t help that he keeps picturing the moment. More than that, he’s spinning fantasies now. Are they talking behind his back? Has Swoops called up Bitty to warn him about Kent, like he’s some out-of-control monster Bitty needs to lock his door against. Are they driving home together? Kent didn’t wait for Bitty, after all. That was stupid, but maybe Bitty deserved that.

Now he’s back to anger again.

The front door slams and Kent rolls his head over the back of the sofa to watch Bitty stride into the living area, ruddy cheeks showing his anger. So now there's two monsters in the apartment and Kent can predict what's about to happen. Yelling. Indignation. Fury. They've gone so long without any of that but they had their rocky moments. Kent thought they were on the other side.

“What. The fuck.” Bitty stands out of reach, other side of the coffee table, hands fisted by his side.

“Same to you.”

“No. Don't turn this around on me. Why did I get a distressed call from Jeff after the game? Why did I have to catch a cab home because you raced out of that stadium like the devil was on your tail?”

“A cab? Why didn't your beloved Jeff drive you home.”

“My beloved… His parents came up for the game. He had to take them home. Do even remember us taking about that?”

Bitty says it like he expects Kent hadn’t. It hurts to realise it’s true. With the surprising and strong anger Kent felt at seeing Bitty in Swoops’ jersey, Kent’s head had totally cleared of everything else.

“So? Any answers for this irrational behaviour?”

Kent stands, anger renewed, and matches Bitty's stance, fingernails biting into his palms hard. “Don't call me irrational.”

“Then prove to me you’re not. Tell me what's going on in your head.”

“You wore his jersey!”

“That's it?”

“ _His_ jersey!”

“He's our boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah?” Kent hurls back to Bitty, voice raised and grating his throat. “Or maybe you just want him to be yours. You want to be with Swoops alone. Without me.”

Bitty’s silence is deafening. His eyes are anger-filled but he makes no moves—verbal or otherwise—against Kent. Nor does he refute his point.

“If that’s what you think of me—that after over two years together, you don’t know to trust my words—” Bitty looks heaven-ward and breathes deeply.

“You wore his jersey.” Kent’s backs off the yelling, but now he’s left to reveal the underlying hurt.

“I wore it because he’s in this relationship too and he asked me.”

“You always wear my jersey.”

“I know. I have in the past. But just because I didn’t wear it this one time, doesn’t mean I don’t still love you. That I don’t want to be with you. That I don’t care about you.”

“I—”

“Jeff's not trying to one-up you, Kent.” Bitty speaks like pacifying a child. “He's not vying for my attention. It's not a competition. This is a relationship. An adult one, I thought.”

Kent crosses his arms over his chest, berated and stung.

“Besides,” Bitty continues, “that boy has been worried sick about you. Do you know how many times he’s messaged me tonight? How many panicked voice-mails I’ve received from him? How hard it’s been to convince him to be with his parents tonight, and not abandon them to come and deal with your tantrum.”

Kent shakes his head harshly. “Don't fucking infantilise the way I'm feeling.”

“It's not about your feelings, Kent. It's how you reacted. Like you’re the only person in this relationship. Your not. _We're_ not. Jeff's with us now and I do not want you to chase him away. I like him, Kent.”

Bitty’s voice snaps and the change follows on the heels of it. Heavy blinking and the first fall of a tear despite it, which Bitty brushes away.

Kent feels his body mimicking the change, syncing up to Bitty's mood. Kent leans his head back, putting gravity against any tears.

“I really like Jeff.”

Kent swallows and looks to Bitty. He can see the anger has passed through him. Now they're both hurting.

“But I—I like you too. Just, a little less than normal right in this moment.”

Bitty walks past Kent and though his hands don't reach out to touch him as he walks past, he sits down on the couch close enough that when Kent sinks back into it he could easily reach out and take Bitty’s hand.

Kent accepts Bitty's honesty about his feelings. He's beginning to find some truth in Bitty's words but there's miles to go before this issue is resolved. The anger was extreme but Bitty's actions had an effect, one Kent doesn't want again.

As he sits and watches Bitty text back and forth with Swoops, it comes to him. It's not about the jersey. It's changes Kent hadn't predicted and wasn’t prepared for. It's jealousy. The signs were there back to the time he saw Bitty and Swoops in the kitchen. He knows he'll need to talk about this with Bitty and Swoops. That's something he had expected.

“We never used to fight like this,” Kent offers in lieu of an apology.

Bitty sighs out roughly and drops his phone onto the couch beside him. He rubs his palms into his eye sockets. "God I know. I'm sorry. We're all adjusting to something new."

Kent nods. "I thought it would be easy. Easier than this.”

Bitty's turns to him, brow furrowed. “Really?”

“We worked so well together when he was staying over when I was injured."

Bitty nods slowly and leans back into the couch. "But I guess there wasn't any pressure then. We weren't in a relationship like we are now. We weren't trying to make it last."

“But that's what you want?” Kent asks. “You said you really like him.”

The way Bitty smiles is answer enough.

"We should call him,” Kent extends the olive branch. “Explain what's going on."

“That's a great idea.”

Kent feels uncomfortable and clunky telling Swoops what happened at the game. Bitty migrates closer to Kent as they talk until he’s pressed right along his side and his hand is a steady warmth on Kent's thigh. Once it's done he feels embarrassed but better on the whole.

"Maybe we need rules or something,” Swoops suggests when Kent wraps up. “Like Bitty, always let Kent know when you won't be wearing his jersey, so he's not surprised.”

“That could work,” Bitty agrees. “I don't want a repeat of tonight.”

“Me either,” Kent agrees wiring up the courage to place his fingers over Bitty's and link their hands.

“Great,” Swoops continue. “I mean I've picked up some stuff in this little bit of time we've been together, but maybe we have to put a bit more work into it. We all want that right? For this to work? Let's make a game plan."

"Spoken like a true hockey player,” Kent teases, light with relief that Swoops and Bitty have understood his actions and are still here with him.

"Haha yeah. But it's kinda like what you're always saying to the coaches, Kent. Every player is different. They’re not going to respond the same way to feedback. You've got to tailor it."

"So we need to tailor our relationship?” Bitty asks.

"Yeah,” Jeff agrees. “Go full bespoke on it."

“I'm in,” Kent agrees without hesitation.

Bitty was right. It's not just the two of them anymore and things will have to change. Kent wants it to work out just add much as the other two. It still feels a dream come true some nights to remember he has two people committed to him.

_____

It's a bad day. Monumentally so. He only meant to make it a little bit better and like with everything he took it too far and now his boyfriends are going to hate him. He can't figure out if it's serious enough to cry over, bad enough to deserve his tears. His body has provided him with a headache instead.

He doesn't hear them come back from the grocery store.

“Woah. Hey. Hey there. Kent. What’s wrong.”

Swoops is beside him on the bed immediately, pressing his body up alongside Kent’s. Bitty trails into the room behind him, still holding his grocery bags. He didn’t even stop to put them in the kitchen. He must have heard Swoops and followed straight to their bedroom.

“Kent?” Bitty asks softly, eyes on him as he drops the bags by the door.

Kent shakes his head because he can’t talk. He feels the lump in his throat. He hasn't worked out if he can cry over this yet.

“Did something happen while we were out?” Bitty asks, sitting on Kent’s other side.

Swoops’ hand moves up and down Kent’s arm, steady and warm, while Bitty reaches out to cup Kent’s cheek.

Kent lets their presence calm him as much at it can before he swallows and gives talking a try. They've spoken so much about communication in their relationship. It's always easier without the context in which it's really important.

“I read them. All. I read all of them.”

Kent looks down at the mess on the bed cover. Dozens of slips of paper.

“Oh, honey.” Bitty strokes his fingers gently around Kent’s jaw. “That’s what they were for.”

“But not all at once.”

“Did they make you feel better?” Swoops asks instead of agreeing like he should.

“I feel…” Kent searches for it, the word that can encompass the feelings inside him. “Guilty.”

“Before that though,” Swoops prompts, while Bitty begins carding his fingers through Kent's hair.

“And, by the way,” Swoops adds, “there’s no reason for that guilt. We wrote them to be read.”

“We did,” Bitty echoes his support.

Kent looks between them, then nods slowly. “They helped.”

“Okay then.” Bitty smiles at him and kisses his temple. “Besides, there’s an infinite number of reasons why we love you. We’d really enjoy writing some more down for you.”

“In fact,” Swoops says, making eye contact with Bitty across Kent’s body. “We can probably list a few now?”

“More than a few, I’d say,” Bitty agrees.

“No, I’m—You don’t need to,” Kent interrupts. “I feel better now. Promise.”

“What if we want to though?” Swoops asks.

Kent flushes warm, and butterflies race through his stomach. “Okay.”

Kent lets them list things until the clouds in his head turn from stormy grey to white. He stops them each with a kiss and pulls them down until they're lying side by side.

“Do you want to tell us why you read them all?” Bitty asks, pressing his palm on Kent's chest over his heart.

Kent looks at the ceiling. He can do the communicating his feelings thing. It's just easier when he can't see them.

“I was thinking about how you two always do the grocery shopping together. Then I started worrying about missing out on stuff because I'm never there.”

“But you hate grocery shopping,” Swoops points out gently.

“Yeah, but I'd do it for you.” He turns his head from side to side so he can looks at his boyfriends. “I love you guys.”

“Thank you, honey. That means a lot. But you'd be miserable the whole time.”

“Not the—” Kent starts to protest.

“Yeah you would, man,” Swoops says with a soft laugh, rolling onto his side and propping his head up on his hand. “And that's totally fine. Just a Kent thing. We _like_ all your Kent things.”

Kent looks between Swoops and Bitty, then the scraps of paper on the bed. “I know.”

_____

Swoops’ text is light on details but Kent goes quickly anyway. The address is familiar though it takes Kent seeing the wraparound porch and row of trees out the front to remember why.

He parks, then nervous and unsure, follows the trees until he reaches the front of the house.

The only light is the hallway light, which spills out of the open front door and casts a yellow glow over Swoops and Bitty.

Kent ascends the few steps to the porch slowly, confused as to why they're here together at night.

Bitty stirs as the wood creaks below Kent's feet.

“I thought you were on a shoot until tomorrow,” Kent whispers to him. “When did you get back?”

Bitty yawns and lifts his body slowly off the porch swing. It rocks gently in his wake but Jeff sleeps on.

“Got back a while ago,” Bitty whispers. “Busy day. I was trying to wait up for you so I could—” Bitty wraps his arms loosely around Kent and presses a soft kiss to his lips. Kent leans into it. He’s missed this while Bitty's been on location the past ten days. These soft moments in the otherworldly time between the sun setting and rising again.

Bitty pulls back and smooths his hands up and down Kent’s sides. He smiles up at Kent with eyes heavy with sleep and full of love. “Hi.”

“Hi,” Kent echoes. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Me too.”

“Why'd the shoot finish early?” Kent asks, still in a whisper, conscious of Jeff sleeping. He's been staying up late the past few nights.

Bitty grins. “It didn't.”

Kent tilts his head. “What do you mean?”

“It was meant to finish two days ago, and it did.” Excitement is creeping into Bitty's tone which only causes confusion in Kent.

“So why are you only getting back now?”

“Jeff and I had something to do.”

Bitty goes over to the swing. “Jeff. Sweetie.”

Swoops startles awake and the swing creaks in its frame.

“Kent's here,” Bitty tells Swoops.

“Kent. Hey.” Swoops voice is rough with sleep. He stands and clears his throat, wrapping his arm around Bitty's waist. “Thanks for coming out here. Sorry my text was vague. I was under strict orders.”

Bitty rolls his eyes at Swoops’ look.

“Of course I was going to come, but, uh, why here? Isn't this breaking and entering?”

“Nope.” Jeff smiles. “Not when it's your own house.”

“It's ours?” Kent says, shocked.

Bitty grins. “Yes.”

“We really own the house?”

“As of earlier today, yeah,” Swoops explains.

“Holy shit.” Kent runs down the stairs to look at the house—their house—with fresh eyes.

It's incredible. The wraparound porch, two stories, home gym already set up, the glass walls he knows are at the back of the house, looking out to the nature preserve.

“Guys, this is... phenomenal. And crazy.” He rubs back to the stairs and kisses then both soundly. “You're crazy and I love you both. So much.”

“Glad you like it, man.”

“Can we go in?” Kent asks, already moving to the open front door. “I want to see it again.”

Bitty laughs and comes around his left side to grab his hand.

“Of course.”

“Wait, hang-on,” Swoops interrupts.

"Oh! Sorry, Jeff. I forgot. Kent distracted me.”

“Forgot what?” Kent looks between them. “Surely the house is enough. What more could there be?”

Jeff grins at Kent. “This,” he says, then bends to pick Kent up in a bridal carry.

Kent yells in shock. He's pretty sure Bitty gets it on film.

Swoops’ footsteps on the hardwood floor reverberate. Kent gets carried all the way through the house. Through the hallway, past the study and gym, to the roomy kitchen separated by an island from the open backroom, which runs the length of the house.

Swoops finally lets Kent down. He stands behind him and drops his arms over Kent's shoulders, pulling him close.

“Wow.” Kent takes it all in. Bitty and Swoops must have been here all day setting up. It's over the top, some may even say tacky. Bitty must have been fighting his own artistic instincts the whole way because there's a lot of fairy lights and even a few helium balloons dancing on the ceiling.

‘Welcome Home’, proclaims a big banner strung along the glass wall. Kent has a suspicion it’s meant for a newborn.

“Guys. This is just so—I don't know what to—” He's overwhelmed. “Oh fuck, I'm think I'm going to cry.”

Bitty moves in front of Kent to wrap his arms around the both of them.

“There's tissues in the kitchen already,” Swoops says, pulling Kent tighter against his chest.

“You knew I was going to cry?” Kent says.

“Actually, I thought Eric might.”

“How do you always know?” Bitty proclaims, pulling back and heading for the kitchen. Tears are already on his cheeks but he’s smiling.

Kent feels Swoops shrug and he spins them so they’re watching Bitty in the kitchen. “Because I know you. Both of you.”

Kent smiles and angles his head so he can kiss Swoops. “Yeah, you do.”

“Mm-hm,” Swoops hums in agreement. “Check in the fridge, while you’re there.”

Bitty opens the fridge and gasps. “Did you sneak this in?” he asks, pulling out a bottle of champagne.

“Yep,” Swoops replies. “When you were out getting the pot plants.”

“I cannot believe I missed that. And glasses?”

“Bottom drawer next to the dishwasher.”

Bitty frowns. “In the drawer?”

“I was trying to keep them hidden.”

“Alright. Fair enough. But we all know I'll be organising the kitchen, yes?” Bitty asks, bringing over three champagne flutes for them. To anyone else it would sound like a joke, but they know he's serious.

Swoops takes two of the glasses off Bitty.

“Can I?” Kent asks.

Bitty hands him the champagne bottle and he pops the cork off.

“You've improved since our first Cup win,” Swoops teases.

“Shut up.” There's no heat in Kent's reply, and Bitty's laughing loudly over it anyway.

“I'd like to propose a toast,” Kent announces when they each have a glass. “To the three of us.”

Bitty and Swoops lift their glasses and smile at Kent.

“I've learnt so much about love and respect and family and, and _myself_ from being with you two. Honest. And so I...I want to say thanks.” Bitty places a hand over his heart and Kent almost loses his composure. “For everything. For loving me. For being yourselves.”

“Same to you,” Swoops adds.

Bitty—eyes watery again—nods.

“To us,” Kent ends.

“To us,” they repeat, bringing their glasses together in perfect synchronicity.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading. I'll try and respond to every comment I receive, so feel free to leave one.
> 
> My thanks go out to Silvia for casting her eyes over my work before the rest of the world, and also to the mods for running this and being so accommodating and helpful.
> 
> If you enjoyed this, you can read [my fic from the 2016 event](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8727250) (it was Pimbits/PBJ only). You can also find more of my work on [tumblr.](http://17piesinseptember.tumblr.com/)


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